Night of the Resurrection
by Martin III
Summary: -Hell:A Cyberpunk Thriller- Rachel was right: It doesn't make sense that the Hand of God would go to such exorbitant expense and risk just to make two new people. So what is the real reason she and Gideon Eshanti were marked for death? Can Gideon solve this final puzzle before it's too late? At long last, the truth about The Night of the Re-entombment!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes:

Welcome to what is, I believe, the first Hell: A Cyberpunk Thriller fanfic. Please let me know if there are any others so that I can read them! As always, both praise and criticism are appreciated. The milieu and characters of this fanfic are all property of Take 2 Interactive Software.

* * *

Night of the Resurrection

plot and script - Martin III

* * *

"Excuse me, Mr. Eshanti."

Gideon turned his head from the tomb where his true love lay. A man in military uniform was approaching him.

"The ceremony honoring you and Ms. Braque begins in ten minutes," he told Gideon. "President Burr is waiting."

"Thank you, sergeant. I'll be right there." He turned back to Rachel's tomb, not waiting for the sergeant to depart. "Well, we saved the world, babe," he whispered. "Sleep well. You've earned it."

A cold silence passed. Despite his words, Gideon felt not closure, but a heavy sorrow when he looked at her resting place.

"At least I know you're in Heaven... we've already survived Hell."

His heart was still heavy as he made his way to the square where the ceremony was being held, but he shouldered the weight. He and Rachel had accomplished a lot: freed countless souls from terror, vanquished despotism, and even saved a few lives. It was important to honor that, for Rachel's sake if nothing else.

He kept his face unsmiling but not unhappy through the ceremony. Though he couldn't forget what he'd lost, he kept what Rachel had done for the country foremost in his mind. The People shouldn't see a sad face at the ceremony commemorating that.

The time came for him to speak, and he marched to the podium with no hesitation.

"I want to thank you all for coming here," he said. "I only wish Rachel could be here as well. She would have been happy to see this, to see all the good her efforts accomplished. But mainly, I'm glad you're here because it shows your spirit for what we fought for: freedom and democracy. We must never again forget how important those two things are. If we do, the next tyrant who rules us will be even more powerful than Solux. You can forget me - heck, I don't even want to be remembered. You can even forget Rachel. But never forget the value of freedom and democracy."

Applause followed, though Gideon had his doubts if he'd done well enough. Even though he believed in all the things he'd said, he'd always considered himself a fighter - a protector, really - not a public speaker. He accepted his medal of honor from President Burr and stepped off the stage.

"Mr. Eshanti?" one of the president's aides called him. "The private reception is this way, sir."

_Ah, yes. One last little formality... a private party with some politicians that I probably wouldn't know if I bumped into them on the street. Being a hero can be a bit embarrassing sometimes._

He held that thought until he stepped into the ballroom. Not with bitterness; he saw all this as his duty of sorts, and felt a sort of satisfaction in even these little gestures to advance Rachel's legacy.

But then he saw them. There, in the ballroom. He'd know them anywhere.

For a moment he just stared, wondering if this was a dream, and then they noticed him. They waved at him excitedly, then shuffled through the crowd to meet him. "Gideon!"

"Mom...?" he said. "Dad?"

"It's been too long, hasn't it?" his mother said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

"Yeah... Yeah, it has..." _When Rachel and I found out about the Night of the Re-entombment, that most of our lives were memory implants from the Hand of God, I started to doubt that I even had a family. Of course, Mom and Dad haven't had much to do with my rebel activities, either before or after my identity change. The Hand of God may not have needed to change my memories about them much. But... they called me Gideon..._

"Ya done good, son," his father smiled. "You left hardly a dry eye in the place."

"Thanks, Dad. But listen..."

Before he could formulate the question on his mind, a hand fell upon his shoulder, and he heard another familiar voice. "How's it goin', Gid?"

Gideon froze. "Carter?"

"Hey, didn't you hear me, pal?" Carter spun him around and snatched his hand. "I asked how's it been goin'! Jeez, you look like you don't remember who I am!"

"Of course not, Carter," he said, returning the handshake with what he hoped was convincing vigor. "We spent too many years working together in ARC, not to mention the training school. But it's been a rough few months, you know?"

"I know it, Gid." Carter's expression turned serious. "You probably feel like I abandoned you, but honest, I never believed a word of those charges the Hand drummed up against you and Rachel. I knew it had to be a mistake - heck, it _wasn't_ a mistake, but you know what I mean, I know you wouldn't do anything like that. But I didn't have much idea of where to even find you, much less help you."

"Well, naturally. Dante was giving us his place to stay at, and we weren't throwing our association with him out to anyone in ARC, not even friends."

They talked on, catching up with each other, Gideon introducing Carter to his parents, but all the while, his mind was racing in a near panic. _Did the Hand of God really go that far - to assign real people to pretend to be my parents and longtime friends? Then they could have based my memory implants on those people, but... part of me can't believe I'm even thinking this. No matter how many times I say to myself "memory implants", I just _know_ that these are my parents and one of my best friends. But then -_

He froze a moment, his eyes captured by a figure across the room.

"Something wrong, Gideon?" his father asked.

"Is... Is that Mrs. Andrews?"

"Sure is. It's a teacher's prerogative to brag about her star pupil - are you all right?"

"...Fine, Dad. I think."

_I haven't seen Mrs. Andrews since high school... years before my body and mind were supposedly restructured. Why would the Hand entrust someone to impersonate someone I'd never expect to see again? If they did this for everyone I've ever met, the chances of at least one of them getting too close to me and revealing the truth would be ridiculously high. More important, if they're imposters, you'd think they'd be in hiding now that the Hand of God has been overthrown. So either the story about the CFF commandos' fate is a fabrication, or the Hand wants me more desperately than I could have thought. Either way, I don't like the implications. And who put all these people on the guest list? I told President Burr about the Night of the Re-entombment, so why..._

One thing was for sure: He needed to get out of there and find answers fast.

"Excuse me, folks, but I just remembered something important that I need to tell President Burr about. I'll talk to you all later, okay?" He forced his voice to be friendly despite his suspicions.

"Can't it wait?" his mother asked.

"I wish it could; I really do. But it's a bit urgent, and I'm not sure how long it will take me to reach her. Just hang in there, okay?" he said, moving into the crowd before they could raise any more objections.

He'd already spotted his target, Thomas Meaculp, across the room. President Burr wasn't around yet, but he should be able to tell him what he needed to know just as well, and he'd rather not bother the president with this anyway.

Meaculp was talking to another man about some programming development that Gideon couldn't understand a word of. "Hey Tommy, got a minute?"

He turned sharply. "Gideon! You look pretty serious."

"Well, I do have a potential catastrophe on my hands. Listen, tell me something: If I'm supposed to be Marcus Vanders, then what are all these friends and relatives of Gideon Eshanti doing here?"

"Ah. Well, shortly after the true story about you and Rachel was made public, your loved ones contacted the CFF, naturally wanting to get in touch with you now that they knew where you were. The CFF agents kept this a secret from you - for your own safety, you understand - and began investigating to see if they were who they claimed to be. Meanwhile, President Burr decided that it would be a good idea to hold off the reunions for this event, so as to surprise you, and convinced your friends to go along with her plan. I take it from your expression that you'd rather _not_ have been surprised?" He scratched at the back of his neck.

"Not exactly. If these people are the real deal, if I'm not really Marcus Vanders, then there's a mystery that needs unraveling. I need to talk to someone who used to work in Transgressions."

"Now Gideon, you know well that I never had any connections to that department."

"No, but you know how to access the government's files better than I do, and I might need your help on this. I want you to find a computer, get online, and wait for me to get in touch with you."

"What? Don't you think you're taking this a bit too far?"

"No, I don't. Listen, this may be nothing, and I'll gladly owe you a big one if that's the case. But it could also be a serious threat to the nation, and we can't just sit here and let it go unchecked. Remember, President Burr considered those captured CFF agents to be crucially important - and now we have no idea what happened to them. I have to figure this out, for Rachel's sake."

"Alright, alright. Give me an hour."

* * *

Gideon logged in through a computer in a backroom government office. He'd had to use the old lockpick implant to break in, but he knew President Burr would have understood if she knew. And it was important for him to keep his location unknown, because if the worst of his suspicions were true, he was being targeted.

Meaculp was online as promised. Gideon didn't waste time, immediately asking him for the location of the one Transgressions agent (1)whose name Gideon knew, (2)who would likely remember details about the Night of the Re-entombment, and (3)who wasn't in prison. He tapped his fingers while he waited for an answer.

_God, I'll bet anyone who saw me now would think I'm paranoid. But if this turns out to be nothing, then there's no harm done, and I'll be able to get to sleep. And I'll finally have the definitive answer to who Rachel and I are._

The answer came back shortly, and Gideon nodded. _Good. Not too far from here._

* * *

"I had not expected to see you here, Mr. Eshanti," Jean Saint Mouchoir answered the door buzz, his broad face seemingly poised to swallow the video display on which he appeared. "At least not tonight, hmm? Come on up."

Gideon checked the charge on his gun before stepping into the elevator. He wasn't anticipating trouble just yet, but it didn't hurt to be careful. Even Mouchoir wasn't necessarily harmless; he'd been a genuine believer, but that also meant that he might hold a grudge against Gideon's bringing down the Hand of God.

After arriving at the right floor, he found the apartment number, and Mouchoir opened the door to let Gideon into his flat. The place was old, cheap, but kept meticulously tidy. Filing cabinets neatly filled up one corner of the main room; Gideon guessed that Mouchoir had held onto his old files from his office at Transgressions. That could prove useful.

"And what can I do for you, Mr. Eshanti?"

"Well, Mr. Mouchoir... I was wondering if you could help me dig up some of the details about the Night of the Re-entombment."

Mouchoir squinted at him. "Ah... And what exactly are you seeking?"

"Well, I'd like to start with the operation which led to the Night of the Re-entombment, the one where seven captured CFF agents were reprogrammed and inserted into new identities."

"That?" the former Transgressions agent said, his eyes twinkling. "Are you saying that you actually believe such an operation truly occurred?"

Gideon folded his arms across his chest. "So, you have a reason to think it's all a fabrication?"

"Oh, but of course! And so do you, my friend, ha ha!" Jean Saint Mouchoir's shoulders shook with his distinctive booming laugh. "You read the memo, didn't you? How else could you have even heard about this supposed operation?"

"Well, yeah, I did, but I don't see how that -"

Mouchoir was already sitting down at his computer and typing. "Well, come then, take another look! I still have the memo here in my files, to be sure. There!" He pressed a key, and the memo began printing. Gideon waited at the printer, and picked up the memo as it came out. "Now then, do you notice anything unusual about the way in which this particular government memo is written?"

Gideon began reading over the memo, studying the lines far more carefully than he'd done before. After only four sentences, it hit him. "My God," he breathed. "How could I have not seen it before?"

* * *

_To be concluded next chapter_


	2. Chapter 2

Outside the building, a woman stepped into the shadows, opened up a handset, and began speaking into it. "This is Venial. He's in Jean Saint Mouchoir's apartment." There was a pause. "No. That would be too risky, and given what happened at the party, we can guess what they're talking about anyway."

Another pause. "No, I guess we don't know that, but what are the chances of -"

"...Well, what do you want me to do? A man like Mouchoir is sure to have security systems in place around his apartment."

"...How? How can I get him to come back to the party?"

"...No, I don't want to let her down," she sighed. "I'll find a way. How much time do we have left?"

"...Affirmative, signing off." She snapped her handset shut and closed her eyes. "I am in seriously deep shit."

* * *

_"Some years ago..." "The terrible truth is now being revealed..." "...to suffer a fate worse than death." "...and most astonishing..." "And there is more." "That explains the night of re-entombment." "Hopefully, you will see why..." "Either way, the Imperator wins!"_

Gideon had read all these words before. They did not ring as unfamiliar. Yet... "Judas Priest, how could I have been so blind?" he muttered. "This isn't written like a memo at all. Some of it sounds like the ranting of a cartoon villain!"

"Precisely, Mr. Eshanti. I must say I was very surprised to hear you had believed it at one point."

"I should have listened to Rachel... She was right; even if the technology were there, why would the Hand go to such ridiculous expense to create brainwashed agents when their own people would be far more reliable? Well, the truth is obvious to me now. There's only one person who could have written something this embarrassingly corny, and that's Solene Solux. The only question is, why? Why would she want Transgressions to believe a story like this?"

"I suspect the message was intended for you and Ms. Braque," Mouchoir offered. "Once you escaped your execution, she must have deduced that you would search Transgressions for information to either clear your names, or take down the Hand of God. Finding this memo would discourage you in your efforts, and lead you to break contact with the CFF in order to avoid Ms. Braque killing Erin Burr."

Gideon brought a hand to his chin. "Then I guess that leaves just one question, the question they wanted me and Rachel to stop asking: What was the reason for the Night of the Re-entombment? I can understand why the other five people on this list were scrubbed - they were all insurgents and criminals under the Hand's law. But why Rachel and me?"

"Your record as ARC agents was rather suspect. Transgressions had records of more than one incident where it seems likely that you allowed minor criminals escape justice."

"Yeah, but that ought to have got us a reprimand at worst. If the Hand scrubbed every ARC agent who was suspected of shirking their duty, they wouldn't have enough to enforce the law."

"Then I am as much at a loss as you, Mr. Eshanti. Of course, my files are at your disposal if you wish to research an answer. After all, I might not be a free man now if not for your testimony on my behalf, ha ha!"

"Thanks, just what I had in mind. For starters, if we can trace the source of the memo, I'd bet -"

Mouchoir's laptop began to make beeping sounds. "A video call," Mouchoir remarked. "You may feel free to go through the files on my computer while I answer this."

"Thanks, I will." He sat down at the computer desk and began sifting through file names. The trouble was, he didn't know nearly enough about computers to trace the source of the memo himself. _Come to think of it, probably Mouchoir couldn't either; the Hand would have done a better job of cloaking it than that. I've got to search for something else, but what? Come on, Gideon, think. Rachel always said you were the brainy one in our partnership. Prove it._

Mouchoir answered the laptop call, and a monotone androgynous voice spoke, "Hello, Jean Saint Mouchoir."

"What is this? A cloaked communication?" At Mouchoir's words, Gideon stiffened to attention. "You should -"

"We know that you have Gideon Eshanti as your guest," the voice continued. "Tell him that we have his parents, and that if he wants them to live he'll do as we say. And don't bother trying to trace this call, Mr. Mouchoir; I'm calling you from an alley in the city, not our headquarters."

"Of course, of course." He moved his fingers subtly over his laptop's keys. "And if Mr. Eshanti is here, you expect him to simply take your word for it that you have his parents captive?"

"If he wants to verify that, he can come to the party being held in his honor. One of our agents will contact him there with further instructions. If he is not there within an hour, his parents die. That is all."

"But -" Mouchoir tried, but the caller had already broke contact.

Gideon checked the time, then said, "Did you trace the call?"

"I'm afraid the caller didn't give me enough time. Besides, I do doubt that the call came from their headquarters."

"All right," Gideon sighed. "Let's think a moment. Why would someone take my parents hostage?"

"Revenge, perhaps, for your part in overthrowing the Hand of God?"

"Then why not just kill me? Anyone who can steal two people from a party where the President herself is present wouldn't have much trouble taking me by surprise. Unless it's a bluff... but then what would the use of a bluff like that be? Just to get me back to the party? Revenge just doesn't seem to be the answer. I think they really do want something from me, but what? And why me? Could it be connected to the reason Rachel and I were on the Re-entombment scrub list?"

He got up from the computer desk and furrowed his brow in thought. Mouchoir remained seated in silence, which annoyed him just slightly, though he was sure the man was just trying to be respectful. Gideon wished more than anything that he had Rachel to help him think his way through this - but no, that couldn't be helped. He had the brains to see what was going on, and just because Rachel wasn't there to jog his reasoning didn't mean...

"My God." His fists clenched. "I've got it! But this could really be big trouble... Jean, I think they want to actually bring the Hand of God back into power. Do you think you can dig up a list of possible hideouts for a Hand faction? Somewhere where they could hijack a nationwide broadcast?"

The former Transgressions agent raised his eyebrows. "I could certainly compile a decent list, though there is no guarantee it will include the place you're looking for. But, your parents...?"

"I don't think they really have them, and even if they do, I can't go back to the party, no matter what. In fact, I've got to get a warning through to President Burr - she might be able to help us, too."

* * *

Venial waited in her car, her skin cool and clammy with sweat. "For the love of God, what's taking him so long?" she growled, gripping the steering wheel even more tightly.

Maybe he was just preparing himself. He might hope to rescue his parents without playing along to any demands their kidnappers might have. Even if he was going to cave to her demands, it was only good sense for him to arm himself and form a plan B in case of a double cross.

Relief swept through her when she saw Gideon Eshanti step out of the building and dart towards the tram station. This was it. He was headed for the party, and there it would all end.

Still, she had to be sure. She started up her car and followed at a discrete distance. Followed him down the street, briefly lost sight of him at a turn, and caught up with him at the station. Got out of her car, entered the station, and watched him board the tram headed for...

"Shit!" she burst out through clenched teeth, and ran back towards her car. "Shit, shit, shit!" There was no chance left now. Eshanti was onto them, he knew where they were, and he had to know how to stop them as well. She didn't know how he knew, but he did. And when they found out that Venial had failed...

She tumbled into her car, snapped on her seat belt, and drove off in the direction of headquarters. Fleeing would be a wasted effort. There was only one course of action left.

* * *

Gideon approached the old, ostensibly abandoned building, offering a quick prayer that his intuition and Mouchoir's facts were right. He was banking on the theory that the group behind this were hiding out in an old government complex whose identity was highly classified; this allowed him to eliminate all known Hand of God installations on Mouchoir's list, as well as any buildings which were known to have a non-governmental function during Solux's reign. That left only this commercial building, suspiciously unoccupied for the past three decades, as a possible base from which to hijack a nationwide broadcast.

He wished that he could genuinely eliminate all the others on the list as possibilities. Or at least say with certainty that this Hand faction were preparing to broadcast their coup. Still, as educated guesses went, he felt pretty confident about this one.

Gideon's trained eye picked up no signs of surveillance, save an old security camera by the front door, which would not be out-of-place if the building was just an abandoned commercial building. With that settled, he began scaling the south wall.

He was a bit out of practice, so it took him a minute or so to reach a good window. His skills were not so rusty, however, that he would miss the electrical field set around the window's opening. It was an old Talbot Trap, designed to look just like a frame for a retired window screen, but Gideon could recognize the subtle nodes which emitted the electrical field. Talbot Traps were disallowed now, of course, but some government departments had been unscrupulous about installing them while the Hand of God was in power, using the rationale that anyone who was breaking into a building probably was overdue for God's justice anyway. Gideon never bought that; he could too easily imagine some poor soul just trying to seek shelter in a building that he didn't know was government owned, and it wasn't as though real insurgents were likely to be caught by a security device just because it wasn't in plain sight.

Still, it was a sign supporting his hunch, so Gideon was glad to see it. He took out his laser drill and carefully bored a hole into the window frame so that he could disable the trap's guts. After some glass cutting, he was in.

The window let him out onto a small platform with a computer desk, overlooking a more general business area on the ground floor, with shelves that suggested a former retail outlet. No sign of covert government operations.

That left the underground to investigate. Or maybe...

He descended to the ground floor and moved along a wall, scanning it with his hands. It took a few minutes, but he found it: a touch identification panel. He smiled. _You learn a few things when you've been an ARC agent... and even more working with the CFF._

Of course, he still had a problem. Specifically, the panel certainly wasn't going to grant him access. That left forced entry as his one option, but fortunately, he'd come prepared. He took out a shaped explosive charge, slapped it on the door, and took a few steps back. He wasn't as good with explosives as Cynna, but he had picked up on a thing or two, and the wall didn't look too tough. Which made sense, since they'd be relying on the Talbot Traps to prevent forced entry; the hidden door was just to prevent discovery by anyone making a legitimate visit to the building.

He set the charge off, making the hidden door buckle and break from its junction with the wall.

"Show time," Gideon murmured, drawing his pistol and darting through the fresh opening he'd made.

Fast as he was, though, there was someone waiting for him. "Don't move," a voice said, a cold metal barrel pressing into the side of his neck.

Gideon smiled. "Suppose I do? After all, you people need me alive, don't you?"

"Your being alive has become nearly as bad an option for us as your being dead," the voice answered. "And you're making it worse every second. If you don't cooperate now, I have no reservations about putting a few fresh holes in your skull. Now, drop the weapon, put your hands where I can see them, and start walking."

"Okay, okay."

His captor guided him through two rooms full of computer hardware. Everything was turned off, however, and no one was working at the stations. There were two other people there, but both were pointing weapons at him rather than computing.

"You all cleaned out in a hurry, I take it?" Gideon said in a conversational tone.

"Don't flatter yourself. This building is just a development site for the Hell program. It was vacated when the CFF's little bug crashed the program. The only reason we're here is because our master was one step ahead of you. We knew this is where you'd _think_ our headquarters is located."

"Hey, you can't be disappointed in me for not being able to out-think you all. You only gave me an hour to work with. Hell, I was in such a hurry, it didn't even occur to me that you'd be watching me leave Mouchoir's place."

"You've satisfied your pride. Now get in."

Gideon was pushed into an elevator which took them down to a dark tunnel where a private tram was waiting. "Cozy," he remarked. "So it's back to the party now, huh?"

"Idiot. Did you really think we'd stick with the old plan after what's happened?" They stepped inside and sat on opposite sides of the tram. "Your only worth now is as a hostage. That is, unless the master decides to make an example of you instead."

"Why the common noun?" he asked as the tram accelerated. "Why not just call your master by name?"

"The master ordered it, saying that you would appreciate the surprise."

"I appreciate the consideration."

He figured that was all he was going to be able to get out of them for now, so he kept quiet for the rest of the ride. He'd know all he needed to once they got there.

The tram moved through a number of tunnels, at one point even passing a public tram headed in the opposite direction. It was odd, Gideon thought, that so many innocent people could be this close to them without having a clue what was going on. Probably by the grace of God, though. If everyone became embroiled in every situation that passed near...

A section of the track ahead of them suddenly moved, breaking from the main track and lowering itself into a ramp headed deeper underground. _Very campy,_ Gideon thought to himself. The tram descended the ramp, then pulled to a stop. Gideon was led out into a sprawling complex with computers lining the walls, large video screens mounted above them. It was a covert government nest, all right.

Before Gideon could take that thought further, a voice boomed off the hardware-lined walls with a regal sort of joviality which clashed strangely with its modern surroundings: "Welcome to your doom, Gideon Eshanti!"

His breath caught in his throat when he heard that voice. Thumping his chest and coughing, he managed to get out, "S-Solene Solux? But you're - dead!"

"Nonsense, fool! Are you truly surprised at this, when you figured the rest of it out?" Solux flexed her mechanical arms, as though to prove herself as alive and well as ever. "The complete restructuring of a human being was too expensive a process to waste on such a minor nuisance as the CFF, but it is the perfect means of creating a body double that is indistinguishable from the real thing."

"Judas Priest," Gideon breathed. "So that much of the memo was actually true." Gathering himself together, he managed to quirk a smile. "Still doesn't make me feel like any less of a dunce for buying into all of it, though."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Solux demanded.

He shrugged. "Oh, just that the tone of it wasn't even remotely like a memo."

"He's right, my lord," the centurion beside Solux remarked. "I remember thinking how much it sounded like something from a superhero comic; I used to read those, before they were outla- urk!"

"You dare!" Solux bellowed, lifting the centurion off the floor by his neck. "You dare insinuate that I drew inspiration from those obscene comic books?! That I have indulged myself in the zestful dialogue and conflicted characters of Stan Lee? The cutting wit and startling plot twists of Peter David? The gritty settings and sharp prose of Derek Donovan?!" The centurion could manage no more than gurgling in response as the former imperator's grip on his neck tightened more and more.

"I think he gets the point, Solux," Gideon put in. "But even you have to admit you overplayed your hand. If you hadn't tried using my parents as hostages that way, I might never have figured out the other part of the memo with a grain of truth: That you did program one of us to kill President Burr. It's just that it wasn't Rachel, it wasn't part of any restructuring of captured CFF agents, and it wasn't set to activate within 15 days of the scrub attempt - it was set to activate by today!"

"That's right, sinner." Solux dropped the centurion. "Nor are the time-delayed imperatives buggy, as the memo claimed. Indeed, they have worked without a hitch every time we've used them! The only flaw they have is that proximity to the target is required! But it was not I who overplayed my hand. One of my agents, codenamed Venial, made the decision to threaten your parents on her own."

"But I've been near President Burr plenty of times before, and I didn't feel the urge to kill her. Are you _sure_ your mind-programming isn't buggy, Solenie?"

"You think to goad me with that tone of voice, fool? The imperatives don't work that way. A codeword must be used to activate them, and after that, the sleeper agent does his job at roughly 20 hours after the activation. We did not use the codeword before now because we had no idea at what time you would be near Burr! The scheduling of the party changed that."

"But that's why you included me and Rachel on the Night of the Re-entombment scrub list, isn't it?" Gideon pressed. "You were planning on leaving us no choice but to join up with the CFF."

"Precisely! It was my masterful plan to put an end to the nuisance of the CFF. Who could be farther above Burr's suspicions than an ARC agent betrayed by his own government? To that extent, my plan worked perfectly. I planted the memo in Transgressions in order to cease your investigations of the reasons behind the scrubbing, and to isolate you from Braque. That part of the ruse failed, though fortunately, the problem of Ms. Braque took care of itself!"

Gideon clenched a fist. "Not before she did her part to take care of you. Let's not forget that your side has lost, Solux - or are you the body double?"

"Hah! I am the original, Eshanti; you fools fell for our deception completely!"

"Of course you'd _think_ that," he pointed out. "After all, the double gets all the same memories as the original, right? You have no way of knowing whether or not you're the real deal." He chuckled, sensing his remark had hit home. "Of course, this really works well for me; after she killed the woman I love, killing Solux once just wasn't quite satisfying enough. Thanks to the androgynous bitch's bitch clone, now I get to do it again."

Solux's eyes blazed hellfire at him. "Is _that_ how you think this will end, Eshanti?! You think simply because you destroyed the Hell program, that you can endure the eternal torments wielded by the true Lord of Hell?" She gave an imperious wave of her hand. "Enough! I grow impatient of waiting for my long-savored revenge! Bring the sinner to the torture chamber, where I can watch him squeal and squirm like the pig he is, before I give him final leave to die!"

"Bring it on, you psycho; I'm as afraid of what you have to dish out as Daniel was afraid of the lions. Even the few followers you have left know the truth now, Solux-clone. You don't wield the fires of hell - only the fires of Nebuchadnezzar's furnace."

"You shall see, Eshanti. You shall see!" Solux said as they led him across the high-tech complex towards a decidedly low-tech steel chamber. One of the guards opened up the door. Inside were a set of spiked arm and leg manacles, with a number of hellish metal instruments hanging overhead.

A guard lay a hand on his shoulder to push him in, but a voice spoke from above, "Drop your weapons and let him go."

Despite themselves, all the guards looked up. Gideon ducked under the hand on his shoulder, snatched the gun from the guard's holster, and took a few steps back, aiming the weapon steadily at Solux's minions.

"What... what is this?" a centurion stammered.

Gideon smiled. "Deliverance."

A half-dozen armed government agents stepped out of the darkness of the complex's relatively narrow entrance. The voice from above repeated, "Drop your weapons. We have already infiltrated the inner rooms of this complex, including your command center. You are surrounded. Drop your weapons or we will be forced to open fire."

All of the Hand agents did as they were told, though some with hesitation.

Solux glared at Gideon. "You did this! But how did they trace you? We ran all the usual scans for tracking devices!"

"You got too used to the Hand having a monopoly on high tech, Soleney," he answered. "The government has developed a few new toys since you were overthrown. Mouchoir planted a bug under my skin, and we contacted President Burr with its virtual reality coordinates. They traced my whole ride here, knowing that one way or another, I would end up in the serpents' nest."

Solene Solux glared at him a moment longer. Then, with an animal bellow, the former imperator pounced on Gideon, one bionic hand knocking his weapon out of his hand while the other grasped his throat. Solux's nostrils flared as the grip around his neck tightened, eyes blazing with a promise of death.

The government troops were very disciplined; two of them turned their weapons towards Solux, but the others kept them trained on the rest of their captives. But Gideon knew there was nothing they could do. The arms wringing the life from him were robotic, which meant that even Solux's death wouldn't stop them from following the last mental impulse they'd received. That left Gideon with his own means. He made a point of struggling to break Solux's grip with his hands, but his real goal was to hoist himself into position to kick Solux in the jaw.

Time was precious. It would only take someone like Solene Solux two or three seconds to break his neck. But in turn, Solux was too overcome by rage to anticipate his move. Gideon's leg shot up, Solux's head snapped back - and a laser beam made an instant hole in that head.

Gideon gasped with relief at again being able to breathe, but the captain in charge was not so pleased. "Who the hell decided to blow her head off?!" he demanded. "I said alive if possible!"

"Captain, that wasn't... wasn't one of ours!"

Two of the government agents took off in the direction the shot came from.

* * *

"They didn't find anyone, I'm afraid," Gideon said, standing before Rachel's grave. "I'm sure it was Venial, though. She probably figured not even imprisonment would stop Solux from killing her for her failure, and maybe she already had doubts about the Hand's way.

"Of course, what with that body double technology, we can't be sure Solux is really dead until we manage to find out how many clones they made. I figure there's got to be some sort of record of that... I mean, the Hand of God would have been in big trouble if two Soluxes disagreed on something and they had no way of telling which was the original. It's likely that they only made one extra Solux, but we can't be sure until we find that record.

"Anyway, this whole thing started with a scrub team coming after us, and now we finally know the real reason why. I don't know about you, but that gives me a feeling like we've closed the book at last. Even if there are other Solux body doubles out there, something tells me that the real Solux is dead, and that's good enough for me. I feel like I can finally let you rest in peace for real.

"I know, I know... I can see that look in your eyes that always makes me do whatever you say," he chuckled. "But I'm not ready to start seeing anyone new just yet, and whatever happens, I'll always miss having you beside me. All I'm saying is, now I don't have to grieve about your death being in vain anymore. We've finished what we started; the Hand of God is gone, and they're not coming back. I already knew you were in heaven... but now I can tell you for sure that the people and ideals you died for are safe."

Laying down the bundle of flowers he'd brought (after that little tiff back in the Interface, he knew better than to bring just one), Gideon turned and left the graveyard. Behind him lay death, but ahead he say a future for America, for Christianity, and for himself.

END


End file.
